


How To Save A Life

by ObjectPermanence



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dubious Consent, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One-Hour-Challenge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-13
Updated: 2013-04-13
Packaged: 2017-12-08 08:21:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/759214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObjectPermanence/pseuds/ObjectPermanence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras wakes up naked, next to another man, and struggles to deal with their relationship after.</p><p>"His entire body felt numb, unfeeling as the weight shifted again, letting out a quiet hum against his bare skin. Enjolras felt completely boneless, and his brain wasn't functioning properly, only repeating Shit. Shit. Shit. There was no way he could face the man in his bed, even if he was just a stranger. How were you supposed to deal with a stranger in you bed? Give them a cup of coffee and a pat on the back and then kick them out? He had no idea."</p>
            </blockquote>





	How To Save A Life

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SpaciousSpace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaciousSpace/gifts).



> Part of the "One-Hour-Challenge" with SpaciousSpace!
> 
> Update coming soon! Please enjoy my one hour writing! :P

Enjolras slowly opened his eyes, blinking sleep away and blearily looking at his ceiling. There was a dull ache in his forehead and an odd taste in his mouth. His neck was very stiff, not allowing him to turn his head.

Something was off. There was an odd smell that hung in the air, and the room was unusually warm. He shifted his legs, noticing that there was nothing between his bare skin and the sheets, which was odd because he never slept naked. Enjolras noticed that his hair was slightly dam and was sticking to his forehead. He grunted when he tried to sit up, a large weight on his chest was holding him down.

"What the-" He stopped midsentence when the weight let out a soft sigh. His entire body tensed, someone was in his bed, and he was naked. Wracking his brain he tried to recall what had happened the night before. All he remembered was going to Courfeyrac's birthday party, drinking a bit, and arguing with Grantaire about the usual topics; politics, hope, morals. But after that it was just a black wall that he couldn't get around. "Shit." He muttered softly, trying to ignore the arms that had snaked themselves around his waist, as well as the warm pressure on his thigh.  _Okay, it's a dude. Definitely a dude._  

His mouth was suddenly dry, and he couldn't breathe properly. Enjolras never drank, and had never been extremely interested in sex. But from what he could gather he'd gotten drunk, resulting in the wicked hangover he had, and ended up having sex with some guy, who was curled up next to him, in his bed. Judging by the lack of pain in his ass, and the fingernail marks he could feel on his back, he'd been the one doing most of the fucking.

His entire body felt numb, unfeeling as the weight shifted again, letting out a quiet hum against his bare skin. Enjolras felt completely boneless, and his brain wasn't functioning properly, only repeating _Shit. Shit. Shit._ There was no way he could face the man in his bed, even if he was just a stranger. How were you supposed to deal with a stranger in you bed? Give them a cup of coffee and a pat on the back and then kick them out? He had no idea.

 _What if it's not a stranger?_  His brain whispered conspiratorially. _No._ There was no way, drunk or sober, that Enjolras would have sex with one of his friends. But the bright blue eyes filled with confusion, embarrassment, and the haze of drunkenness looking up at him begged to differ. 

His brain unhinged and ceased to work when he recognized the dark curls and pale skin of Grantaire, who was currently naked, curled up next to him with a raging boner.  _Shit. Shit. Shit._  Enjolras froze, holding the boy's gaze for a moment before the cynic turned a deep scarlet, eyes widening in understanding, his mouth hanging open slightly. 

"Enj-ras?" Grantaire gasped, jumping away from him as quickly as he can manage. He landed with a loud thunk on the hardwood floor, completely naked, wincing in pain and rubbing his ass. "I'm so- I just!' He stammered, grabbing his boxers off of the ground, trying to hide his arousal with poor results. "I- um- I'll just be going now!" He squeaked, voice cracking the cynic raced out of Enjolras's flat, slamming the door behind him.

 _Shit! Shit! Shit!_  

-ooo- 

Grantaire raced down the stairs, trying to get as far away from his Apollo as he could.  _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._  He thought, trying to will his erection away, to no avail. As soon as the dark-haired boy reached the bottom floor he pulled his boxers on, and raced out into the street, trying to make it home so he could die of embarrassment. 

The cynic had harbored feelings for the blonde since they'd first met. He'd never had the guts to express himself, and this was not how he'd imagined having Enjolras find out. Waking up in a bed, not remembering what had transpired the night before was not exactly his idea of romanticism. Neither was the pain that radiated from his ass throughout his entire body. He ducked his head, avoiding the confused looks of pedestrians, noticing the small amount of blood that had crusted onto his fingernails.  

Usually Grantaire didn't drink enough to forget the entire night, just enough to temporarily deaden his feelings and ignore the constant emotional pain he felt. But this was not a first time occurrence, it had happened a few times before, and were the reasons why he'd cut back on his drinking. 

Slamming the door to his flat behind him, the drunk grabbed a half-empty bottle of whiskey off of the coffee table. "Fuck!" He yelled, slamming his fist into the dark wood, rewarded with a dull thud from the table, and a slight stinging in his knuckles. Taking a long drink from the bottle he wandered over to the corner and slumped down onto the floor. Pulling his knees up to his chest with his arms he stared at the wall for a long time, refusing to acknowledge what had happened.  _You had sex with Enjolras!_ He wanted to run through the streets and shout it from the rooftops. But he had no idea exactly what had happened. _Was it consensual?_  Grantaire knew he'd wanted it, god he'd wanted it. But had Enjolras? Was it just the alcohol, or did the blonde god really return his feelings.

His thoughts were interrupted by the painful throbbing coming from his crotch. Looking down he saw that his boner had only gotten worse, shuddering he swallowed slowly, staring at it. With a pit in his stomach he jerked off as quickly as possible, coming a moment later, spilling over his own hand and gasping out Enjolras's name. Shame filled his stomach, he jerked off often enough, but this time he felt embarrassed, getting off to the image of Enjolras, sweaty and confused as he looked down at Grantaire on his chest. Tucking his legs closer to himself the cynic felt a single hot tear roll down his cheek. "Fuck." The pain in his ass, and the bruises on his hips were the only reminders that his Apollo had ever been there.

 


End file.
